My dad was outside eating corn, in a field, in Warren, Ontario, when all of a sudden he heard an eerie voice urging him to build an arena. So, he decided to kidnap one of Canada's most dissident poets. Unfortunately, they were all away on dissident business at the time, so he had to settle for Pierre Berton.
It seemed Pierre didn't know a thing about hockey but could talk 'till the cows came home about building railways. This made for a long drive so my father took him to a hockey game and offered to buy him a hot dog, but Pierre wanted poutine.
Those were not the poutine rich days of today, but Pierre kept insisting on it anyway. My father had to promise he would find some so they drove to the nearest VIA Rail station. When Pierre got out of the vehicle my father peeled out of the parking lot and shouted, "Thanks for nothing Pierre Berton!"
Then, my dad went back to Warren and ate some more corn. Lo and behold, ten years later, the Sudbury Arena was built. It was 1951.
Well it didn't take long before the Americans got wind of this great story and decided to make it into a movie called Field of Dreams. They switched the hockey arena to a baseball field and my father was never able to stomach another Kevin Costner film.
My father loved hockey so much he never accepted one red cent in connection with that movie. Until his dying day he said, "Even if they offered me money, I wouldn't take it. Pass the corn."
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